Saviour
by plausiblecolour
Summary: AU. The day the Alice Academy caught her, Mikan and Hotaru were seventeen. Told to forget about her childhood best friend, knowing her to be trapped within the school, Mikan sets out instead to do the impossible: sneak into the impenetrable Alice Academy and save Hotaru. Told in three parts.
1. Part I

Title: Saviour  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters here or the material of Gakuen Alice. This work was created for fun and not for profit.  
Rating: T, M in last part  
Fandom: Gakuen Alice  
Pairings: None - Gen  
Warnings: Kidnapping (technically), Violence, slight OOC-ness, some Swearing, AU, OCs  
Description: AU. The day the Alice Academy caught her, Mikan and Hotaru were seventeen. Told to forget about her childhood best friend, knowing her to be trapped within the school, Mikan sets out instead to do the impossible: sneak into the impenetrable Alice Academy and save Hotaru. Told in three parts.  
Author's Notes: Oof. The longest thing I've written, and finished, to date; all of Saviour has been written, I'm just completing final edits at the moment. The slight OOCness of characters comes from what I imagine to be variations in their upbringing and therefore how they've developed, since the canon events of the story don't take place here. Regardless, I do try and retain their inherent characteristics that make them so recognisable. Major warnings in the last part that I can't reveal due to spoilers; reader discretion is advised. I do hope you enjoy reading this.

Saviour

_Part I_

The day the Alice Academy caught Hotaru, Mikan was sick with the flu. She ran a high fever and felt weak with cold chills, even as she was tucked into her blankets, her futon cradling her. Between her bleary dreams and her blearier reality, Mikan gazed out her window.

She remembered, that day, the curtain swaying in the breeze, and the bright, azure sky that Hotaru must have seen, too. She saw the same winking sun, and she smelled the same sweet scent of flowers in the air as they bloomed in the springtime. She saw all that Hotaru saw in their school courtyard as Alice Academy cornered her for the last time.

Mikan would only find out later, after numerous interviews of her peers, teachers, and even the villagers — who spread the news of Hotaru's capture as quickly as they spread the flu in winter — what happened to her. The way Hotaru looked, calm, and the way the teachers of the Academy approached her, as if Hotaru had had the choice to go with them. She learned from the countless watching eyes that Hotaru knew who they were, and that she went willingly into their car, the windows blackened. She found out from Hotaru's neighbours, who had peeked out from the curtain in their kitchen window to watch what had happened, that the Academy had brought Hotaru home to pack her belongings; it was the only place they stopped at before they stole her away. The neighbours told her how Hotaru's parents fought and argued against the Academy's teachers there the entire time, and how they only stopped when Hotaru had asked them to.

Mikan received the letter, too, that Hotaru must have scrawled for her the last time she had been in her bedroom, the short time the Academy's teachers let her be alone. Hotaru's parents told her they'd found it tucked away in one of Hotaru's notebooks, the kind that held the secret sketches of the ideas Hotaru had about devices she wasn't allowed to make. The letter was scribbled in a hasty, green ink, the pen the only one in her rushed grasp.

_Mikan. I'm sorry. They found me. I'm going to be okay_. _I love you always._

Then, like an afterthought, _Don't come after me_, with Hotaru's name signed underneath.

Those were the last words Mikan read from Hotaru for six months.

Mikan spent that first month crying and staring at Hotaru's letter every night before she went to sleep. When she woke up in the mornings, she would sit on her futon, the floor cold against her legs, and the paper fragile between her fingers, bent and crumpled as her heart. She would reread every word, memorising the curve of each letter; the way Hotaru connected her "t"s and "h"s together so they looked like a single letter, and the way she sometimes forgot to dot her "i"s... It would make her cry the same way it brought her solace… and it was the only thing to do that, those days.

After the first week spent home, recovering from the flu and her heartbreak, her grandpa made her attend school again. She spent her days moping and forgetting homework, staring out the window in her classes and thinking of Hotaru. Her teachers were kind enough to pretend they didn't notice her not paying attention in class, and her classmates patted her on the back when they saw her, giving her snacks and treats, and letting her copy their homework when she remembered that they were due.

It was when they were talking about the Alice Academy, a month after Hotaru was gone, that Mikan felt something other than sorrow.

"The Academy is for _geniuses_," Hitomi Suzuki said, the second smartest girl in their school. Hotaru was the first. Mikan refused to think that Hitomi had taken her place with Hotaru's absence. Hitomi was a short girl with mousy hair and wide, thin, frame-less glasses; she stared at Mikan the few rare times she'd spoken with her, but she did that with everyone. Hitomi was staring with her wide eyes at another girl, now — Kimiko, who was pretty and had curly black hair — as Kimiko glanced uncomfortably at her friend beside her, who looked uncomfortable in turn. Hitomi had that effect on people, although Mikan considered herself immune to it.

She'd caught Mikan's attention, though, and Mikan paused in the middle of packing her school bag, her hand still holding her book in mid-air. She listened carefully, holding her breath.

"They're national treasures. They say that the terms for their level of genius is _Alice_. So Imai Hotaru is an Alice, and that's why she left." Hitomi continued, pushing up her glasses. Kimiko's friend glanced at her again, but Kimiko was frowning.

"But Hotaru was hiding her intelligence..." Kimiko said uncomfortably, gathering her thoughts carefully. After a moment, she continued. "Her parents were hiding her."

Hitomi frowned, in turn, and gripped her book tighter to her chest. "They shouldn't have. Hotaru needs to hone her skills. She shouldn't have been so ungrateful! She's _lucky_ to go to Alice Academy." Hitomi gave a wistful sigh, staring out the window.

"She's an Alice. They _belong_ there."

Mikan was staring openly, now, and the gears in her brain were whirring, but Kimiko reached the truth faster.

It seemed to click in her mind and she gasped, facing Hitomi fully for the first time. "Wait… you… you called the Academy, didn't you? _That's_ how they found her," Kimiko whispered, "even though her parents had been hiding her for so long…"

Mikan's book clattered to the ground. The group of girls jumped to face her, and when they recognised who she was, Kimiko's and her friend's eyes widened. They glanced back-and-forth at her and Hitomi, sensing the tension festering.

"Mikan…" Kimiko ventured, her voice falling into silence.

Hitomi pushed her glasses up her nose, nonchalant. Mikan felt herself see red, and the next thing she knew, she was standing in front of Hitomi, staring down at her.

"You were the one who told them?" Mikan whispered, and her voice was so calm, she almost didn't understand why Kimiko and her friend flinched back from her. Even Hitomi was beginning to cringe, to look frightened.

"You were the one who got Hotaru captured," Mikan said, and it wasn't a question anymore.

Hitomi's eyes shifted uneasily until they narrowed, and she puffed up her shoulders, speaking rapidly.

"That's not fair. That _isn't_. You can't speak to me like that! The people who are Alices are _lucky_. Imai Hotaru is lucky. You should be happy for her."

Mikan stared at Hitomi. Hitomi flinched back as though Mikan had slapped her.

Another voice spoke up. When Mikan turned to look at them, she realised it was Kimiko's friend.

"I heard that the kids who go to Alice Academy get a lot of money. Their families, I mean."

She flinched when Mikan looked at her and hid her face in Kimiko's hair, who looked uneasy, watching Mikan with sympathetic, but wary eyes. She murmured softly to her friend, and Mikan managed to hear the words "..._shouldn't have said that_…" in her soft voice.

Hitomi cleared her throat.

"Exactly. The families — and the towns, even — of Alices are very fortunate. I heard that your village was poor… She probably went with them so that you guys could get some money. You're very lucky to know someone who is an Alice."

Mikan swept up her bag and her fallen book. She left the classroom before she could scream at them or do something worse, her heart too heavy to cope with the anger and the despair of her loss.

• • •

What Hitomi had said, as much as it had vexed Mikan, made her realise how little she truly knew about the Academy that had spirited Hotaru away. As a result, on a warmer Sunday morning, Mikan went to the library.

It was a two-hour trip by bus, not unlike the trip to her high school, so Mikan left earlier in the day. She was tired enough that even the violent shuddering of the bus only reluctantly shook her awake. Her curiosity — and her ignorance — of the Academy had kept her awake last night, up until the still-dark morning. When she stumbled out of bed and went to the bathroom, her reflection winced at her; dark-circles graced her eyes and her hair seemed weak and lank. She looked how she felt: lifeless, frail, like someone in her life had died; it may as well have been that way, with the knowledge that she would never see Hotaru again.

But her curiosity and her hunger for knowledge ran hot and deep and relentless, flowing like magma under the earth. What kind of institute stole away their potential students? Why did they give money to their students' families and homes?

What did being an 'Alice' _mean_?

The bus deposited her in front of the library, and she entered. She quickly found herself a computer and, after a few hapless minutes — she vaguely knew how to use computers because of the ones in school — she found herself on the Internet.

After typing "Alice Academy" into the search bar and clicking on the first link that popped up, Mikan was utterly absorbed in her search. She poured over the Internet for hours, finding Alice Academy's own web page, and read article, forum, news page, and anything else that had a link she could click on. Her mind was spinning by the time it had come for the library to close, and she arrived home in the evening, her head a bowl of water and full of thoughts that swam and darted about like little, curious fish.

She came back to the library the next weekend and read, and read, and read, and she did the same the weekend after, and the one after that, and the one after that, until she knew the stories of Alice Academy as well as she remembered her own childhood.

• • •

It was then that a plan started unfolding itself in Mikan's head, laying out lists of things she would need, where they were, and with further research, what she would do.

That night, when she held and read Hotaru's letter again before bed, the words _Don't come after me_ stared back at her in sharp contrast.

Hotaru had always known her well.

• • •

The next day at school, while Mikan was packing her school bag slowly — her head whirring and buzzing with thoughts distracting, as usual — Hitomi unexpectedly approached her after class.

It was just the two of them in the classroom, Hitomi having waited until everyone else had left. The silence in the air was thick enough to slice with a butter knife. Mikan stared at Hitomi, her face expressionless. A particularly strong wind slammed the classroom door shut, which Hitomi jumped at. With all the windows open, it was chilly, and Hitomi seemed to shiver.

Mikan continued to stare at her, her face as unchanging as stone.

"Listen," Hitomi began, speaking in a rush, her nervousness getting the better of her. "I mean, please, er… I know the students in the Academy don't get to communicate with anyone outside. Not for a long time. Not until they leave." Hitomi pushed up her glasses and ducked under her mousy hair, pulling down her sleeves over her fingertips. "I know you haven't spoken to Imai since she… since they took her," Hitomi interrupted herself.

"I remember what you were like when Imai was still here," Hitomi said, and Mikan saw a light blush spread across her cheeks. "You were like a little bumblebee… so happy. You're different now. You're hurting. And I think that's… No, that _is_ my fault. I'm sorry."

Her last two words rang out like a bell in the silence. A loud gust of wind rocked the room, whipping Mikan's hair across her face. When it subsided, she pulled out strands out of her mouth, grimacing, and saw Hitomi brush aside her curtain of hair as well.

Unexpectedly, warmth touched her face. A wet fingertip came away from her cheek and Mikan realised she was crying.

Hitomi noticed, stuttering, "Oh no I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry..."

Mikan hugged her. She rested her hands between the dents of Hitomi's shoulder blades and hid her face in Hitomi's neck as she cried. She cried the way she had cried when Hotaru was first gone, and Mikan felt her loss as fresh as the day, as new as love. She felt the loss again like a gaping hole, an aching hunger after a day's lack of food, or like a warmth that had gone when she was cold. The pain was different than it would be if Hotaru had died, but it hurt Mikan all the same, and she cried, loud, wailing aches that came straight from the hurt.

Outside, a brown-eared bulbul called. A gentle breeze danced its way through Mikan's hair and kissed her cheek. The sun rose beyond the clouds, and for one brief moment, the world brightened.

• • •

Six months went by before Mikan was ready.

The morning was chill, the sky still dark with sleep. The beginnings of the sun peeked out over the horizon, and a flock of birds flew through the sky, crying out their _good mornings_.

Mikan softly tiptoed past the sleeping figure of her grandfather, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest as he dreamed. She left the note by his head, where she knew he would roll over and see it immediately.

She hated to leave him with only paper and ink to explain where she'd go, and what she'd do; she wished she could tell him, but she knew he'd tried to stop her.

She didn't want to waste his time, or her own. Or Hotaru's.

She stepped out and locked the front door behind her. She tugged up her backpack on her shoulders, the heavy weight of it and the ache of her shoulders almost making her regret packing so much.

But it was worth it, knowing what the outcome would be.

Mikan looked to the horizon and saw the sun winking at her, the dark fading as day grew. She took a breath and squeezed the straps of her bag tight, stepping away from the door and down into the world ahead.

_I'm coming, Hotaru._

• • •

A/N: Thank you for reading Part I. Part II will be going through some final edits before it is released on the **25th of July**. See you then.


	2. Part II

_Part II_

Tokyo was great, bright, and colourful, with billboards and ads plastered over buildings, flashing and vibrant. She heard a thousand conversations and saw hundreds of people crossing streets and waiting at lights; businessmen, women, models, tourists, families, students… She heard the busy honk and rush of cars when the crossing was over, the eternal activity; the _life_ of Tokyo. The sight made Mikan's head spin and her heart flutter, and it was easy to forget what she had come for.

But she remembered. She always would. It was the thing that had been on her mind the last six months… Since the day she knew Hotaru had been taken, if Mikan was being honest with herself. It had been a deep, buried thought; one that she'd been too afraid to dig up... Until now.

Mikan remembered Hotaru's letter, and she slid her hand into her pale, pink jacket's pocket, caressing it with a finger. She had brought it with her out of a whim; the words, and the knowledge of Hotaru that they brought with them, was something that comforted Mikan more than anything else she could have brought along.

_Don't come after me_, Hotaru had written, because she knew Mikan always would.

After a short scuffle to catch a taxi, Mikan was on her way to the Academy. It was a quick ride — no more than twenty minutes — and when Mikan was deposited in front of the great brick wall that surrounded the Academy, she felt her heart falter.

This was real. It wasn't some daydream she had in class to lift her spirits; it wasn't a dream she'd woken up from with her heart bursting with joy; and it wasn't a secret idea she scribbled about vaguely in her notebooks. It wasn't any of that, anymore; it was _real_ and Mikan was there, standing on the pavement with her scuffed sneakers, her light blue yoga pants, and her pale pink jacket zipped up over her white t-shirt. The bag on her shoulders wasn't any lighter than Mikan had started out, and although it was gone for the moment, she had the impression that her shoulders would ache _fiercely_ later.

She was there, staring at the brick wall, people walking by her on the sidewalk, cars driving by on the highway. A cooler wind touched her and she shivered slightly; the sun winked weakly through the thick and heavy clouds in the sky, its light smothered by the deep darkness.

Mikan distantly hoped it wouldn't rain. Of all the things she had brought, an umbrella hadn't been one of them.

A sudden thought came unbidden, and it almost felt like a slap with how much Mikan detested it: _she could turn back_. She could go home now and no one would say anything, because no one had even known what she had been planning. She could turn back now and she wouldn't have anything to be afraid of.

She could just wait for Hotaru. After a student turned twenty, they had the choice to leave the Academy, and Mikan knew Hotaru would pick that choice… She probably would. The Academy couldn't get into her mind by then; they couldn't shove ideals and values so much that they became ingrained… Could they?

What if, by the time Hotaru turned twenty, she wasn't the Hotaru Mikan even remembered anymore?

The memories of what Mikan had read online about the Academy — the forums she had trudged through, read through for hours, and hours, and hours; the news articles about the Academy's every action, or any famous people that had graduated from there; and so much more — they all flashed through Mikan's mind, and Mikan felt the thought vibrate through her being, in her bones, and in her very blood, when she thought _No_.

She couldn't let Hotaru be subjected to that. She wouldn't.

The fear was still there, like a murky, thick layer of smog over her thoughts, but the protectiveness and the anger Mikan felt was the beam of a lighthouse, bright enough to see in all the smog, guiding her to the end. She felt her resolve strengthen.

It didn't matter whether or not Mikan could do it, or whether she was too scared to; she would do it. For Hotaru.

She would save her.

Like the way she had saved her when they had been eleven.

Mikan blinked at the sudden memory, and then turned her focus at hand. She was still standing on the pavement by the brick wall of the Academy, and by now she'd gotten several strange looks from the people passing her by. She set out forward, walking, slightly embarrassed.

_Okay, Mikan, focus_. Her mind ran over the plan again: _find the West of the Academy, the place between the forest and the wall. Don't get lost. Stay close to the wall. Don't let anyone else see what you're doing. Find a tree that's close enough, climb it, and walk on its branch to get close enough so you can stand on the wall. Find another branch on the other side, use it, climb down the tree, and: success! You're in Alice Academy!_

It was a simple plan, but one that Mikan had dwelled over for months, one she'd rethought, despaired over, cried over, spent countless hours on the library's computer over, and rethought again, and again, and again.

This had to be the one that worked, because she had no other plan that would get her inside as quietly and as effectively; and no other plan at all, really.

If this one failed… Mikan snuffed out the thought, shaking her head. She wouldn't think about that. Not until it happened… if_ it happened_, she internally corrected herself.

Buried deep in her thoughts, Mikan forgot her surroundings until she bumped into someone.

"Sorry," she mumbled, mindlessly glancing up.

She stopped in her tracks momentarily, her eyes widening. A beautiful person stood in front of her, smiling gently. They had curly, blonde hair and bright green eyes, and Mikan blushed when she realised that they were actually a man. The beautiful man — handsome didn't seem to fit him as well — had a beauty mark on one cheekbone. He looked every bit of a foreigner, but the way he moved and his fluent Japanese told her otherwise.

"Sorry, I didn't see you there," he said, at the same time that Mikan apologised. He gave a bright smile, tilting his head at her.

Mikan smiled back, the gesture as natural to her as a flower blooming in spring, and replied, "That's okay," before she continued on forward.

She felt the strange sensation of eyes watching her, and her mind whispered to her that it was the man, but that was odd. She ignored the feeling and continued on her walk, tucking her hands around her bag straps and humming to a vague song.

She finally reached the corner of the brick wall. By then the sensation of eyes had disappeared, although Mikan only just noticed it had. Without hesitating, Mikan promptly vanished into the forest, walking along the brick wall with one hand travelling across it so as to never lose it.

The forest was thick and dense, and Mikan had to be careful not to trip over hidden roots or walk into trees or their low-hanging branches. Sometimes she would have to separate from the wall to crawl under branches or stumble over them, but Mikan always returned to the wall, sticking to it as she stuck to her plan.

_Not yet. Not yet_, She thought to herself, glancing at the trees close to the wall. She'd passed ones that had a good distance to the wall, but their branches thinned off too _early_, or they were too _low_, or they were too _high_. She needed to find the perfect tree, one that would carry out her plan solidly.

When she finally found it, the sun was high in the sky and the thick clouds had dissipated completely. Its rays beat down on Mikan, who was already sweating from her exertion, drops rolling down the side of her face and the back of her neck. She shuddered when the latter occurred, rubbing at the area. She was nicked with tiny cuts and bruises where she had fallen a few times, her shoes filled with dirt, cobwebs sticking to her, and leaves nesting in her hair. When she finally saw it, though, she stopped completely, and the pain and discomfort seemed to fade away.

The tree was perfect. It was so close to the brick wall, Mikan could hardly squeeze herself in the gap between the two. It towered far over Mikan, as well, matching the wall height-for-height, and the branches were thick and tough where they met the wall, so close it was to the tree.

Mikan grinned, and set to work.

She wrapped her legs around the trunk of the tree, squeezing hard, and wrapped her arm hand around the trunk as well. She grabbed for the lowest branch with her right hand and, carefully manoeuvring herself a little higher, she grabbed hold of the branch with her left hand, too, so that she hung from the same branch. She swung briefly on it, panting, holding the branch tight. Mikan pulled herself up on her triceps, straining, before she slipped a leg over the branch. The other leg joined it, and she laid there for a bit, her body wrapped around the branch, breathing heavily.

She used to climb trees as a kid, but she had stopped. The memories vaguely came back to her: of pulling herself up branches, having them sometimes snap, and the falls; and how she walked away from most of them unscathed. But she had to be careful when climbing this one — which was also the first tree she'd climbed in years — since it was so tall.

If she fell, Mikan could die.

Mikan gulped, and sat up on her knees. She tested each branch before she used it to manoeuvre herself higher, pulling on it slightly. She avoided looking down, and she avoided _thinking_ about looking down. Every so branch, Mikan would stop and rest, her whole body exhausted with the intensity of the climb.

Finally, she had reached the height of the brick wall. She hugged the tree again and guided herself along it, her hands stinging from cuts and splinters she'd acquired along the way. Mikan sat down on the branch that stretched over the brick wall and into the school, the one that she'd seen from the ground, and tried to hold back her euphoria.

She wasn't over the wall just yet.

She crawled along the branch, which stretched a little more than over the brick wall; it avoided the spikes attached to the top of the wall, sharp, black ones Mikan hadn't seen from far below, so high up the wall the spikes were. She crawled along the branch and passed them, and she was within the boundary of the school.

Suddenly, prickling began all over Mikan's body, and she frowned. A split second later and a violent shock tore her from the branch, and she shuddered, electricity tearing through her body.

Mikan had already fainted by the time her body slammed into the ground below.

• • •

Pain tore through her, so much so that she couldn't even cry out. She was too exhausted for tears, so Mikan fell back into deep black again, the pain leaving her once more.

• • •

She woke up again and drifted off, riding consciousness on waves of pain. When she could finally stand it, the sensation of her body so brittle and hurting, consciousness grasped her. Mikan opened her eyes.

She laid on dirt, bramble, and shrub, a tree root jabbing into her side, a thorn pinching her hand. She was lying half on her side and half on her back, her right arm outstretched beneath her. When she could tilt her head and look around, she saw forest; thick, green bloomed about, trees stood tall, and branches twined together in the sky. In the gaps between them and their leaves, she saw the sky was turning dark, orangey splotches the last bid of daylight.

Okay. She needed to get up. She knew that. But everything hurt too much. She briefly wondered what her name was, and where she was. As though the knowledge was far, far, far away, she reached out with a conscious of pain and distance, grasping, grasping into the empty sea of her thoughts.

It came to her suddenly. She was Mikan, and she was in the forest outside the Academy—

No. She'd… she'd fallen when she was on the branch, over the wall, inside the Academy's boundary. She'd fallen because… Because…

She couldn't remember why. But Mikan knew she was in Alice Academy; she had succeeded, as far as one could, having fallen from the height of three floors.

But she was inside. She would find Hotaru.

If she could manage to get up.

Mikan grunted, tensing her whole body, and promptly stopped when pain tore at her again, so ferocious she wanted to scream.

Mikan stopped and laid there, panting. She felt a little short of breath, like something wasn't letting her breathe fully. She winced, pain stabbing at her side when she tried to breathe deeper.

When she paid close attention to her more minute pain, she noticed her chest hurt. Her side — where she had felt the stabbing pain, which she was also lying on — felt tender. If she looked under her jacket and shirt, she'd see a painting of purple and blue. She internally flinched at the thought.

Her right arm vaguely hurt, the one currently tucked underneath her. She felt a slight throbbing from it, as well as something strangely sticky and warm.

There was an odd pressure on her head, and she felt the slight thrum of a headache. She felt dizzy when she tried to look around, turning her head to the side. There was a slight ringing in her ears that she hadn't noticed before.

All over her body, around her legs, her arms, her sides, her front, and her back, she felt stinging. It reminded her of the time she'd gone out swimming in the local pool in her village and had forgotten to put on sunscreen. She'd gone out in the morning and came back in the late afternoon, red as a lobster and sensitive to the touch. She spent the next week crying and stinging, lying in a bathtub of cold water her grandfather had continually drawn for her. She remembered the slightest brush of fabric would send pain shooting through her.

She felt that now, a constant, high stinging. She thought that that was probably good, because if they were burns, then they weren't that bad; the really bad burns, she wouldn't feel at all. The knowledge came to Mikan from far away, something someone had told her, or something that she'd learned in school.

She needed to turn around, to get off her arm and side, and onto her back. Everything hurt, and the pain was building up again, and she knew it'd hurt less if she moved onto her back.

_Move, move, move_, she thought to herself, and shifted over. Her pain promptly rose, and she _did_ have the energy to cry, because tears fluttered from her eyes in warm drops that stung her cheeks. Mikan laid there on the dirt floor, and the tree root wasn't digging into her side anymore. She shifted her arm to get rid of the thorn, and her arm still strangely throbbed and felt too hot, but she could move it.

Gradually, the pain eased. She watched as the night grew full, the forest growing thicker with darkness.

A thought sprung into her head. _Her bag_. Where had her bag gone?

She looked around in the decaying light, her neck straining with the effort and her heart falling, until she caught a glimpse of yellow.

Her bag! It was down by her feet, to her left. She'd have to get up and reach it, or crawl.

Mikan gulped, and her throat felt parched with the dryness of sleep.

She could do this. She had to.

For Hotaru.

Carefully, Mikan rose up on her elbows. The sticky warmness running down her arm almost made her slip, but she managed to still her elbows on the grass. She turned clumsily onto her side, sweat dripping from her face with the exertion and pain. She breathed for a bit, trying desperately to ignore the pain. On an exhale, Mikan rose onto her knees, only to kneel in the grass when her side screamed at her.

She clutched at her side with one hand, irrepressible whimpers slipping between her shaking lips. She felt nauseous, lightheaded, the world tilting around her, and suddenly it was too warm. She wanted to take her pastel pink jacket off, but she could hardly support herself as it was, kneeling with her head throbbing in the grass.

She knew what was happening… she'd seen it before, in school. On a particularly hot summer's day, a boy she'd never spoken to had fainted. He'd been outside running in the sun with his friends, kicking carelessly at a soccer ball. They said he refused to take a break until he suddenly stopped running and turned to one of his friends, telling him that he didn't feel great. He promptly fainted after that, collapsing bonelessly onto the field. He had had to be taken to the hospital. The IV drip replenished his growing-dehydrated body, and besides the mild concussion the fall had given him, he had been fine.

But Mikan knew she wasn't so lucky. She had burns all over her body, a concussion — if she had guessed correctly — and something, probably a rib, broken in her side. Her chest felt like both a truck had slammed into her and a vice had been squeezed around her, with the pain blossoming under her breasts and her tight, short breaths. Her arm dully hurt, damp and sticky, and when she turned her head to look at it she flinched at all the red and felt a sickening faintness roll through her body. She gasped in a breath and looked away — it hurt the least of all her injuries at that moment. With these injuries, Mikan knew it wasn't feasible for her to lie down and drink some water, as her teachers had told her and her cohort at the time. Mikan was injured, alone in a darkening wood in a place known to be impenetrable, and alone. No one knew where she was, and no one was looking for her.

And even if they were, no one would be able to find her.

If she lied down, Mikan knew she wouldn't get up again. If she didn't get up, she would bleed to death from the deep, sickening cut in her arm.

Fear chilled her heart. She wanted to lie down and cry. She wanted to go back home to her grandpa, and lay with her head in his lap like she was a little girl again, his fingers combing gently through her hair. She wanted to be back in her bed, where she had been safe and warm and comfortable, where pain hadn't been coursing through her body.

Hot tears ran down her face. Scrunching up her nose, with a determination that was stronger than she felt, Mikan slowly rose to her knees.

Her side screamed. Her head and arm throbbed, warmth spilling down her forearm. Her chest hurt, and it was hard to breathe. Her face stung, her tears irritating her burns. The world still tilted around her, and she wanted to abandon her efforts completely and lie down on the forest floor. But Mikan rose slowly, and then she was on her own two feet, staring down at her shoes and her yellow bag in front of her. The pain had stolen away the long minutes it must have taken her to stand.

But she had stood up. She would survive.

Tears still running down her face, Mikan slowly bent over — trying hard to keep her torso straight — and unzipped her bag. She dug around its contents, growing more and more aware of the thickening darkness around her. Her fingers closed around a cool, metal handle; pulling it out and zipping up her bag again, Mikan turned on her torch. She slung her bag onto her shoulders again, her every movement slow and careful, considerate of her injuries. She pressed one hand to the deep cut on her arm — a branch must have torn through her pastel pink jacket in the fall — and hoped that that was enough to stop the bleeding.

Mikan breathed, wiping her wet eyes across her other jacket sleeve.

She was here. She was inside the Academy, if a bit lost, but still inside. She was injured, but she could still mostly move. She still had all of her stuff with her. It was dark, but she had her torch.

She was okay. She was alive.

She could do this.

She was still crying, her body bruised and stinging and hurting more than she had ever known, her heart aching with the loss of Hotaru more than ever; but Mikan tried to believe all that she had told herself, and more, as she set out across the forest, her thin torch lighting the way to Hotaru.

• • •

The night was alive around her. Several times Mikan saw eyes in the dark, the odd glow she recognised in cats and dogs' eyes staring out at her in shrubs, or between the darker gaps of trees. She never dared to shine her torch light on them, too afraid of what she would see. Instead, she jumped and cringed back when she saw them, her head pounding and her side piercing. The shadows she saw never approached her. If they were real, they regarded her only with mild interest before they disappeared, and after several terrified heartbeats, Mikan continued past.

Her walk through the forest of Alice Academy would remain one of the most terrifying, yet oddest nights of Mikan's life. She didn't hear the squeak of bats or the growl of other animals - the woods were as quiet as death, and if it weren't for the strange glowing eyes she saw, she would have thought there was no other creature in the woods save for herself. She ducked beneath branches and stepped carefully over tree roots and shrubs, and sometimes she thought she saw symbols scrawled on the bark of trees, or movement around her, but Mikan did nothing more than gaze blankly at them and continue past in a daze. The pressure on her head had grown, and the headache was a dull, drumming thing, and Mikan swam in that haze through the woods, her thoughts blending with reality. She wanted to lie down, but she knew if she did, in the dark in those woods, she would not have woken again…

By the time Mikan found the cabin in the woods, she thought her imagination, and her begging desire, had conjured it. The warm glow in the windows couldn't be real; they were exactly what Mikan most desired then, too inviting and peaceful. By then, day had broken through the glass of night, and oranges and reds and yellows sunk their way into the purple-blue sky. Mikan had never been so grateful to see daylight in her entire life. But her feet were aching something ferocious, and her breaths were short and quick from fear and the pain in her chest and side, and she still flinched from the red of her arm. She was the most exhausted and the most scared she had ever been, so even if the cabin was a hallucination, she approached it, desperately hoping it wasn't.

She was so tired.

She wouldn't know what to say to anyone inside, if there was anyone; she was too exhausted to care about being found out. She just wanted to lay someone safe and warm, in a bed, not worrying about strange, quiet creatures in the dark, being found out by the agents of the Academy, or how much blood she had lost or how much her side hurt when her foot slipped, or stumbled, on uneven ground. She wanted rest, more than anything, at that moment.

She almost cried when she touched the doorknob and found it solid, and she did when she opened the door and found the cabin real.

It was empty, a fire stoked in the hearth that lit the cabin deliciously. Mikan closed the door gently behind her, found a small bed in the corner of the room, and fell asleep before her head ever hit the pillow, too exhausted to tuck herself into the blankets.

She slept dreamlessly, absorbed in the darkness that came with rest. It felt as though she remained like that — asleep — for a long time.

When she opened her eyes again, she found the cabin had transformed.

It looked like a hospital room; she lied on a bed with thin white sheets tucked over her, an IV drip stuck in the skin to her left inner elbow. She shuddered briefly at the sight, but was relieved to find the blood had been cleaned off her arm, her wound dressed and wrapped with gauze. A monitor beeped to her left, the beeping increasing with her heart rate when she realised _she had no idea where she was_.

But it was a calm room. The walls were painted a spring-green, decorative stickers of trees, smiling animals, and flowers plastered on them. There were picture, too, of simplistic cartoons, and Mikan privately thought that the room had been designed for young children.

But why was Mikan there?

When she sat up, she found only a faint sting in her side, and she found she could breathe normally. There was something on her face, and when she touched it, she realised it was a bandage. She felt more of them across her body, on her left forearm, on one of her thighs and calves, and across her other side, the one that wasn't injured. They were probably for the burns. Her headache was entirely gone, as well as the pressure on her head.

She was in the hospital — what looked like a hospital room for children, anyway — and she had been treated.

Was she even still in Alice Academy?

Mikan frowned hard, lost in the confusion of her circumstances, when a knock sounded at the door. She clutched her blankets, pulling it over her lap as the door opened.

An older, gentle man greeted her, his head thick with white hair, trailing over onto his chin in a beard that made him look silly. He vaguely reminded Mikan of Albert Einstein, if he was her doctor, and if he had the same grandfatherly quality both her own, and this doctor, seemed to have. She noticed he had hazel eyes, and when he smiled, he did it with his whole face. Mikan couldn't help smiling back.

"How are you feeling?" The doctor asked, and his voice was both soft and gravelly, like snow on the trail home. Mikan blinked at the thought. "You've been out for quite a while."

"How long?" Mikan tried to ask, but her voice croaked, her throat scratchy like sandpaper. She tried to cough out the feeling when the doctor pointed out the glass of water on her bedside stand, and she almost swallowed the glass whole with how thirsty she was.

Embarrassed, she ducked her head, setting down the glass with a short _clink_ as it met the table. She licked her lips full of moisture and asked her question again.

The doctor smiled reassuringly and said, "Only for half the day. Your injuries were quite severe… Subaru came by earlier to help me treat them." He tapped his eyebrow, smiling slyly. "I have the X-ray vision Alice, you know, although it isn't very accurate as a description. I can see all the different layers of the human body… and you had quite the set of injuries." He frowned. "A concussion, a deep laceration, a lung contusion, a rib fracture, and not to mention, first degree electricity burns."

He considered Mikan seriously, and then sighed, pulling out a chair that had been tucked into a corner of the room. He was silent for a few beeps of the monitor, the noise as steady and rhythmic as waves rolling against a shore. Mikan fingered the white, threaded blanket spread over her, her thoughts spilling over each other. The doctor pressed his palms together, and seemed to finally make up his mind, sitting straighter in his chair.

"The trip back… is the worst, I imagine," he said, meeting her guarded gaze with kind, gentle eyes. "I know it's not easy, returning here after seeing your parents, for what must be the first time in… many, many years."

Mikan simply stared at him, her eyes wide and uncomprehending. After a moment of thought, she opened her mouth to speak — to say what, she didn't know — when he continued.

"You wanted to go back home to your parents, I imagine… And I'm sorry you can't. I'm terribly sorry, child." He looked at her, his eyes filled with tears, and her lips shut promptly. She stared at him, her mouth empty of words and her mind empty of thoughts, but he seemed to take silence as an invitation to continue further. "This Academy is hard, but it is safe… the only place truly safe for us Alice. You will be with your parents again one day, but for now, you must stay here, and train, and hone your skills, and protect those you love. I will not tell a soul of what occurred here, and neither will Subaru." He smiled, and winked at her in good camaraderie.

She met his grin with her own reluctant smile.

"Now," he said, and clapped his hands. His face smoothed out, returning to the business at hand. "Usually, you'd be in the high school division medical station, but you were found closer to the elementary one, so we've treated you here. We removed your clothes because they were worsening your burns — you were at the risk of thermal burns, with them — but we've gotten someone to bring along the high school uniform for you to change into, when you're ready. If it isn't the right size, just let me know and I'll let someone else fetch you the right one."

Mikan blinked. "A-Ah, right, thank you," she said, and grinned.

Before he turned to go, a question blurted from Mikan's lips. "Wait — who — who found me?" She asked, and her heart began to beat harder. The monitor's beeping increased with her pulse, but only a little; the doctor hardly glanced at it before he turned to her and said, "Why, Bear, of course," and promptly left.

Mikan blinked. A table squeaked along in the hallway as a nurse rolled it by, and she heard laughter ring out distantly. A door shut in the wing, and more voices rose, as Mikan frowned at the wall and wondered _who was Bear?_

Movement flickered from the corner of her eye and Mikan glanced to the side, unsuspecting.

An actual, moving teddy bear stood there and Mikan gave a small scream of surprise, almost falling off the bed.

It stared at Mikan with unblinking, pearly black eyes. It had the brown fur of a typical teddy bear, and it stood on thin legs, thin arms staying by its side. It remained unmoving when Mikan screamed, and maybe because of its calmness, despite the utter oddity of the situation, Mikan stopped being afraid.

She blinked and, glancing out the open door to her room, she turned to the teddy bear and whispered, "Are you Bear?"

For a moment, it didn't move, and Mikan felt silly for trying to talk to it. Then it nodded, and she flinched back from it. She leaned forward again when it didn't do anything else, and she thought for a second.

"I'm Mikan," she whispered. For a second, she paused, wondering what to do. She was talking to a _teddy bear_. Mikan supposed regardless of the question of its sentience, she would be polite. "It's nice to meet you, Bear," she said, holding out a hand. "Thank you for saving me."

Bear looked at her with his dark eyes. After a moment, he held out his paw. Mikan wrapped her fingers around it and squeezed lightly, shaking it.

Although Bear confused her immensely, she supposed she shouldn't have been too surprised. This _was_ an Academy for geniuses, after all. It wasn't unbelievable that someone had made him, and programmed him to be sentient, somehow — Mikan knew people like Hotaru would be capable of it.

And because he had already helped Mikan, she wondered if he would help her further...

"Bear," she whispered. "I need your help… again. Please listen." She sucked in a breath and smiled sadly. "And if you don't want to, you don't have to help me. I'm very grateful for what you've done for me so far."

Bear looked at her, and Mikan knew he was listening. Mikan opened her mouth and started from the beginning.

"And then I woke up here," Mikan finished. "My whole plan failed. But I can still save Hotaru — I just need to know where the high school is. Can you show me the way?"

Bear stood still for a long, long time, enough that another nurse entered the room and gave Mikan a cup of water, returning again with a tray of food. The food was mouth-watering, enough that Mikan scarfed down the bowl of rice and salmon, and the side of fruit salad, as well as the actual lettuce-y salad that had a dressing Mikan didn't immediately recognise. She only realised how hungry she'd been when she stared at her empty tray of food, all of it devoured. By then, she remembered her conversation with Bear, and turned to him, awaiting his decision.

Slowly, he nodded, and Mikan beamed.

Bear closed the door after she asked, and then they began. He helped her remove the IV drip from her arm, pulling off the tape and sliding the needle out carefully. Mikan squeezed her eyes shut the whole time, and when it was over, she breathed a sigh of relief. She removed the other clips and devices from her fingers and toes and, suddenly, the monitor went off loudly, beeping a warning. Mikan, panicking, pressed a button that seemed to turn it off. She relaxed, and then saw a red drop roll down from the inside of her elbow; her arm was bleeding from where the needle had sat. She gave a quiet shriek and Bear, acting quickly, wrapped a bandage around her arm.

"Thank you, Bear," Mikan whispered, wiping away a bead of sweat. She tried to ignore the nausea she had felt at the sight of her own blood, taking deep breaths to calm herself down.

When she wasn't going to throw up her breakfast any longer, Mikan went to the bathroom in her room with Bear, the Academy's uniform tucked underneath her arm. She hoped that, at least, if the doctor or nurse returned and found the clips and IV drip taken off, they'd excuse it as Mikan badly needing to go to the toilet.

She dressed as quickly as she could with Bear's aid, and it while it was a bit difficult — her side twinged slightly as she pulled on the shirt, her legs clumsy as she pulled up the skirt — she managed to get dressed. She was privately grateful the doctor had had the foresight to give Mikan new, clean undergarments.

Once she was fully dressed, and after Bear gave her the signal of the hallway being clear, she left the room, shutting the door quietly behind her.

Perhaps because she appeared as a high school student and it was an elementary school's hospital ward — and they didn't expect her, as a patient, to be up and about either — she and Bear escaped the ward quickly, no one noticing them except the lady at the reception, who gave Mikan a smile as she left.

Bear lead her through hallways and doors, and then they were out of the building.

She looked around at the elementary students around her; it looked to be recess, because she saw children playing around, chasing each other and screaming with giddiness. They passed by one smiling little boy who was floating, and Mikan paused, looking back at him. Bear tugged her forward. She put her mind off the boy for the moment, swallowing her bewilderment.

_School for geniuses_, she reminded herself.

Bear lead them through the area, and besides the few children who cooed at Bear and tried to hug him, and the glances they sent at the bandage on Mikan's face, the two largely went unnoticed.

Now that Mikan wasn't lost in the dense woods that largely acted as part of Alice Academy's defences, she could appreciate how beautiful the school was. Bear led her past walkways, courtyards, and buildings of beautiful architecture; he led her past playgrounds and classrooms, walking briefly by the middle school's building, and she could appreciate the greatness of its structure. When they had reached the high school building, Mikan still held that appreciation, but her goals came brimming to the surface, and her resolve hardened the softness she held at the beauty.

She couldn't forget what the Academy did to their students. She couldn't forget what they could be doing to Hotaru at that very moment. The Academy was beautiful, but Mikan knew it for the lie it was; the beautiful, blooming rose hiding the thorns underneath.

She couldn't trust what she saw… She couldn't let her guard down.

Bear had paused, watching Mikan dwell in her thoughts. She turned to him and bent down to one knee, hoping to address him as an equal.

"Thank you, Bear. For everything that you've done for me."

Bear nodded to her, once, before he turned and headed back to the woods. Mikan turned to the high school building and took a deep breath.

This was it.

• • •

It was relatively easy to slip into the building. The front doors were unlocked, left that way to presumably let in lagging students from recess. When Mikan stepped through them, she felt a warmth spread over her — as if she had entered a pocket of warm air — and it reminded her of what had happened to cause her fall in the first place, as well as the burns that had covered most of her body.

She entered the high school building, unscathed, and began her search for Hotaru.

Her heart pounded as Mikan twisted open doors to empty rooms, stumbling once or twice upon small storage rooms full of mops and buckets. The classrooms with ongoing classes left their doors open, and Mikan would walk back-and-forth across them, checking to be _absolutely_ sure Hotaru wasn't in the room. She did this a few times, and if the teacher questioned her, she would tell them she forgot where her classroom was for today. But they never asked her.

Mikan blended in with her uniform and her age; she may as well have been a student of Alice Academy, with how everyone treated her. If it weren't for the bandage across her cheek — the only visible sign of a wound across her body — she would have been virtually invisible.

Her luck faltered when she bumped into someone in one of the hallways.

"Excuse me," she said, wincing; they'd bumped into her injured arm, the wound stinging with the contact. Mikan hoped the blood wouldn't leak through her uniform, the gauze wrapping hidden beneath it.

"No, you're alright," they said, and it took a second to resonate with her memory, but Mikan realised she had heard that same voice before.

She looked up at them.

It was a teacher; they were the only ones who didn't wear uniform, and were adults, within the Academy. The teacher was so beautiful it took a moment for Mikan to realise they were a man, and then the rest of her recognition crashed into her.

Blonde, curly hair. Green eyes. Beauty mark on cheekbone… Mikan had seen this man outside the school gates when she had been meaning her way to the outer forest. He had bumped into her back then, too.

She stared at him, her thoughts and panic drowning out noise. He asked her something, and she didn't hear it over the rush in her ears. He spoke again, but when the beginnings of recognition touched his eyes, Mikan made to _go_.

She hurried past him, saying, "Ah, sorry, I'm going to be late to class, I have to go…"

"Wait, I don't recognise you—" He stopped her with a firm hand wrapped around her arm. She cried out when he squeezed her bandaged wound, and he fell back, apologising.

She took that as her chance to run… Or run as well as she could with a fractured rib, a bruised lung, a concussion, and deep cut in her arm, not to mention the burns covering her body. Her legs were rubbery — her body still had the odd feeling that she hadn't used it in too long — and Mikan didn't get very far when something tight wrapped around her feet and _pulled_. She fell to the ground and instinctively turned to land on her left side, minimising the pain, but she still shuddered in agony as the landing jolted all of her injuries.

"I'm sorry," the teacher began, and Mikan looked up through the haze of pain to see green eyes staring down at her. A mixture of emotions she didn't understand swam in them, and his face contorted and changed as the emotions swept through him. "But if you are who I think you are, then you have to come with me."

• • •

Mikan sat, rigid, on the leather couch. Her feet had been tied together with the ropes — the whip — the teacher had used on her, her wrists tied together and resting on her lap.

They were in an office, presumably his and some other teachers he shared it with. It was a comfortable size, with one large window bringing in sunlight, but he had situated her on the other side of the room from it. They were on the third floor, too, so even if Mikan had been able to reach it, she wouldn't have been able to use the window to escape.

She was too afraid to fall again, she privately admitted to herself. The injuries she suffered — that she _still_ suffered — were the most horrible she'd ever experienced in her life.

Mikan didn't want to think about her injures, what had happened to her, and how she had finally been caught. So, instead, she focused on the other area in the room that had caught her immediate attention: the body lying on the couch across from her.

It was a boy; a high school student, evident from his uniform. He had sharp black hair and even sharper eyebrows, thick above his closed eyes. Instead of relaxing, even in sleep his face was taut, as if he wrestled with his dreams; Mikan imaged his expression didn't change much when he was awake.

He was _objectively beautiful_, Hotaru would say, even with his sharpness. He possessed the kind of intensity that Mikan vaguely recognised, one she was used to seeing in stray, feral cats. She knew other girls would find it attractive in this boy, particularly with his physical features. He was the eye-candy type, the one to be intimidated by and the one to cry over; she knew that if he had gone to her high school, he would have easily been the most popular boy in her whole school.

She felt a brief sting at the memory of high school. She had only been gone — been at Alice Academy — for about a day and a half, but with what Mikan had gone through, it may as well have been a lifetime. She felt ten years older, and more tired than she had ever felt before.

The teacher saw her dazed gaze in the general direction of the boy and mistook her blankness for interest.

"That's Natsume," he said, coming over to stand behind the couch the boy — _Natsume _— slept on. "One of the most troublesome students in Alice Academy, as well as the most famous." He paused, seeming to think. He continued, but Milan had the sense it wasn't quite what he'd wanted to say. "Do you know of him?"

Mikan shook her head, not seeing the point in lying to the teacher. The only student she knew, and cared about, was Hotaru.

The teacher blinked, seemingly taken aback. He tilted his head at her, considering. "Huh. Interesting." Silence reigned for a few seconds, his gaze still washing over her, trying to make sense of her. He finally spoke again, turning to face Natsume. "He has the Fire Alice. One of the most dangerous, and powerful, Alices in the Academy… and arguably the most infamous, too."

Mikan hid her confusion, wondering how someone could be a genius in fires. Did Natsume know how to start them using any material he had on hand? Mikan shook her head of useless thoughts, trying to listen as the teacher asked her something.

"Um, what did you say?"

"I asked about your Alice. Since you seem to have snuck into the Academy from outside."

Mikan gulped, ducking her head.

So he knew.

She really had failed.

His first question still made her frown, though, so she answered, "Uh, I'm not a genius. I'm not smart enough to have any Alices."

The teacher stared at her, pausing. His hand rested on the back of the couch that Natsume rested on, and he said, "You snuck into the Academy, and you don't even know what Alices truly are?" His voice wasn't demeaning, or patronising. Instead, he stared at Mikan with more than a small hint of astonishment.

Mikan sat there and stared down at the beige tartan plaid pattern of her skirt, tucking her fingers into one of the folds.

After a small amount of silence, the teacher went on. "Alices are special abilities; they cover just about everything and anything."

Mikan frowned. Did he mean superpowers? Things like that only existed in TV shows, in books, in comic books, in fairy tales — they only existed in mindless, nonsensical daydreams, the kind Milan used to have as a child. It wasn't possible that they existed — it couldn't be —

The teacher continued, watching her openly. "For example, my Alice is the Pheromone Alice." He winked. "I can overwhelm people with my Alice and… increase their suggestibility."

The pieces clicked into place in Mikan's head and she audibly gasped, understanding coming to her.

What she had read online; the strict security of the Academy. The invisible barrier. The doctor's comment: "_I have the X-ray vision Alice, you know, although it isn't very accurate as a description. I can see all the different layers of the human body…_" Bear. The elementary school kids on the playground; the boy she saw floating.

They weren't geniuses, like Mikan thought they were. They had special abilities; _Alices_.

Mikan's thoughts shot to Hotaru, her heart squeezing. For so long… Hotaru had hid something like that from her—

A knock thudded on the door, breaking Mikan away from her thoughts. Her heart threatened to break out of her chest as her palms grew sweaty. She squeezed her hands together, tight, and looked down at her leather shoes.

_This was it. The end._

The teacher continued watching her as he moved from the couch.

"That'll be the other teachers," he said to Mikan, his hand on the doorknob. "Don't try to escape. It'll be…" He paused, and then let the sentence go. He opened the door and Mikan squeezed her eyes shut, unable to meet her fate.

"Narumi-sensei? I was told to pick up a report from you for class B," a voice spoke, and Mikan's eyes snapped open at the sound of it.

_It couldn't be… could it?_

Mikan looked up, and at that moment a particularly golden ray of sunlight shone through the window on the two high school students by the door. She felt her heart squeeze when she saw one of them.

"Hotaru?"

She looked the same as ever, even in the high school uniform: her short, cropped black hair, her violet eyes, her small nose… Her typically calm face, now widened in surprise as she beheld Mikan.

"Mikan?"

Mikan cried and laughed at the same time, and she sprung to her feet when she remembered they were tied. She held out her tied wrists, instead, still laughing tears, and Hotaru came over to her. The blonde-haired teacher — _Narumi _— watched them in shock, but didn't stop them as Hotaru approached Mikan. When she was close enough, Mikan wrapped her arm around Hotaru and held her hard, as if to never lose her again. Hotaru, after a surprised moment, returned the embrace.

Hotaru humoured her for a bit before she pulled away, raising a hand to Mikan's cheek. "How are you here?" She breathed. "What happened to you?" She asked when she saw the bandage on Mikan's cheek, and she stepped back further to notice the arm sling in its entirety.

Mikan only laughed, tears flowing down her face. "I fell," she said, and it was the truth.

"I missed you so much, Hotaru," she whispered, and her bottom lip shook with her voice, and now she was crying hard.

"Mikan…" Hotaru said.

"Natsume," a boy said, and Mikan noticed it was the student that had come with Hotaru. He had blonde hair, more gold than Narumi's, and blue eyes, and he wore the high school uniform. He came over to Natsume, lying on the couch, and swept aside a lock of black hair.

The boy, moving, seemed to snap Narumi out of his daze. "Hotaru-chan," he said, coming over to them. Instinctively, Mikan put herself between him and Hotaru, and he stopped, another emotion Mikan couldn't read colouring his face. "Do you know this person?"

Mikan said nothing. After a moment, Hotaru spoke. "She's my childhood friend, sensei. I know her well."

And that was all. Even the blonde-haired boy had turned to watch them now, sitting on the edge of the couch next to Natsume.

The silence ticked by like the hands on a clock, and when Narumi's eyes widened with understanding, Mikan knew her time was up.

"Listen," she turned around to face Hotaru, speaking rapidly. "Remember. Remember what happened when we were eleven?"

Hotaru's eyes widened.

"I'm here to do what I did then."

Hotaru stared at her, as if truly seeing her for the first time. She looked Mikan in the eyes, silent and considering, as Mikan's heart beat steadily faster.

"Mikan, wait…" That was Narumi, and he was coming toward them. He seemed to understand faster than Mikan could think what she planned to do, and he walked towards them as Mikan stared pleadingly at Hotaru.

"Okay," Hotaru whispered.

Mikan nodded.

"I can't let the two of you go," Narumi said, and his eyes were stern, and also… sad, but that made Milan frown. He was a teacher of the Academy. He was the one who kept students here. Naruto couldn't have that sadness in his eyes as he gazed at them.

The blonde-haired boy stared wide-eyed, turning back and forth to watch the confrontation unfold.

"It's not about whether you can't," Mikan said, facing him again. "It's that we're leaving, no matter what."

And then the room exploded in flames.

• • •

It was bright, thick, and hot, as if they were standing in the centre of the sun.

"_Natsume!_"

Mikan heard Narumi's voice, swallowed up by the roar of the flames. His past words returned to her in a hurried frenzy:

"_He has the Fire Alice. One of the most dangerous, and powerful, Alices in the Academy…_"

Mikan turned to Hotaru behind her and took her hand. "Hotaru," Mikan shouted to be heard, her voice still hushed over the howling of the flames. They licked at Mikan's clothes and ankles and she stood nearer to Hotaru, panting with panic. Her chest started hurting again, and Mikan grimaced. She panted, "Natsume woke up. We can use this as our chance to escape. If we can get through the flames..."

"They're too thick," Hotaru replied, close enough to Mikan that she could hear her without Hotaru shouting. "Natsume's angry. His fire isn't normal fire — we can't get rid of it."

Mikan remembered what it felt like to be electrocuted by the barrier, as if she had been swallowed by a sea of electricity and pain. She remembered the thousands of sparks that had exploded through her body as she stared out at the brightness around her, a promise of both pain and suffering.

"Hotaru," Mikan gasped in her panic, clutching at Hotaru behind her. Sweat and heat licked at her eyes, causing them to squeeze shut. Mikan turned around completely and hugged Hotaru, trying to shield her best friend's body from the worst of the flames.

Fingers gripped the shirt of the uniform that wasn't truly her's as Hotaru hugged her back.

"Mikan," Hotaru said in her ear, her fingers digging tighter into the fabric. Mikan heard tears in her voice as she continued. "I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye."

Mikan clutched her tighter even as the space between their bodies grew slick and hot with fear and flame. "I'm sorry I let you go," Mikan replied, her voice shaking.

Mikan closed her eyes for the last time.

Because her eyes were squeezed shut, all her focus on shielding Hotaru… _protecting her from the flames… thinking she had failed, that she'd come all this way to the Academy, gotten her body more battered and bruised than it had ever been before, all to save Hotaru… but it didn't matter, because they were both going to burn to death, flames licking at their melting skin and hearts only stopping when they were more ash than bone, a terrifying way to die… she should have come sooner, left earlier, been cleverer… if she could just save Hotaru, protect her from the worst of the flames..._ Mikan didn't see the bright, growing, white light expanding from her chest. She didn't see Hotaru's eyes snap open, or the way she watched the glow, and then Mikan, with eyes as wide and round as the sun in the blue sky. She heard Hotaru's soft gasp, but she only squeezed tighter, and the white, glowing light grew, and grew, and engulfed them whole until there was no more.

And then there was. The heat vanished as if it had never been there, leaving behind air almost chilly, with how hot the flames been. The roar had vanished with a whisper, leaving behind only sleeping silence. And when Mikan opened her eyes, her heart still running too fast for her to keep up, her sweaty hands damp around Hotaru's shoulders, she saw nothing but the two of them in the abandoned room, the fire gone as quickly as it had come.

"We're alive," Mikan whispered, unbelieving at first. She pulled back from Hotaru's embrace, clutching at her shoulders. "We're alive! It's gone, Hotaru!" She laughed, her joy ringing out into the world, and only stopped when she noticed Hotaru's expression.

Hotaru gazed at her as if she'd created the world. Her eyes were the widest Mikan had ever seen them, her mouth open in a small 'o', Hotaru's entire face a rare show of utter, unconstrained surprise. Mikan had never seen Hotaru this way before, so open and unbelieving. She stared back.

"What? What is it?"

Hotaru was about to reply when they both heard the sharp chirp of a bird outside. It startled them both out of their sluggish relief, Mikan straightening as her head twisted back from her view of the window to face Hotaru.

She slid her hand in Hotaru's, ignoring the sweat, and squeezed. Hotaru squeezed back.

Whispering in a strange mix of panic and calm, Mikan whispered, "They're going to come. We have to go."

Hotaru pursed her lips in determination and nodded, meeting Mikan's eyes. They both walked quietly to the door, their footsteps loud in the sudden silence.

Mikan took the doorknob in her damp hand and twisted it, opening it slowly. Her heart squeezed in apprehension before she pushed it open.

Two figures stood in the doorway, blocking their exit. Mikan almost shrieked in surprised, jumping back, when Hotaru stepped forward and spoke with recognition.

"Hyuuga Natsume. Nogi Ruka."

It was Natsume, awake, when he had previously been asleep. He stood there, looking unbothered, him and the blonde-haired boy — _Ruka _— appearing untouched by the presence of his flames. Mikan didn't bother suppressing her scowl.

She stepped forward, pulling Hotaru with her, meaning to squeeze in-between them to leave. Natsume shifted, stepping in her way.

"What are you doing?" She demanded, meeting Natsume's red eyes with growing frustration. They needed to go. _Now._

"You're leaving, aren't you?" Ruka answered instead, stepping closer to them. Mikan's head whipped around to face him, and he met her gaze with determined blue eyes. He continued, his voice as hard as stone.

"Take us with you."

• • •

A/N: Apologies in the slight delay of delivering this chapter — life enjoys interrupting. Regardless, thank you for reading. Part III, as par for the course, is the longest part; it currently sits at 11,000 words. As a result, it will be published on the **28th of September**. See you then.


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